


Scraffito

by interabang



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art, Background Relationships, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9839906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/pseuds/interabang
Summary: After Joey reads a particularly scathing review of his play, he decides to take a different career path - which definitely doesnotinclude making art that looks like Rachel.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fmnds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fmnds/gifts).



> Chocolate Box Treat for [Fmnds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fmnds/pseuds/Fmnds). Hope you like!
> 
> A/N: “ _Scraffito_ (aka _Sgraffito_ , in Italian "to scratch") is a decorating pottery technique produced by applying layers of color... and then scratching off parts of the layer(s) to create contrasting images... and reveal the clay color underneath.” ([source](http://portalsso.vansd.org/portal/page/portal/Staff_Portal/Staff_Pages/VSAA_STAFF_PAGES/VSAA_Zeller/VSAA_Zeller%20_SUBPAGE2/Expressive%20Self%20Portrait%20Clay%20Bust%20project%20description.pdf))
> 
> A/N 2: This is a canon-divergent AU; the major changes are that Ross and Rachel never dated, and Joey changed his career after getting that negative play review in S02E10 "The One With Russ." I was also inspired by [this](http://imgur.com/wHgKEZD) image of Jen and Matt behind the scenes.

“Are you kidding? Remember when Ross got Carol that ridiculously —” Chandler suddenly clapped his hand over his mouth.

 

“That what?” Rachel asked as the others shot looks of horror over at Chandler. “What’d he get her?”

 

Chandler removed his hand from his mouth, made a few wheezing noises, and stuttered, “Oh, uh, just some ridiculously _dorky_ pen with a dinosaur pattern. I think it was for their six-month anniversary.”

 

Rachel grinned. “Well, I guess Dr. Geller has stepped up his gift-giving since then. I don’t even want to return this!”

 

The others all laughed half-heartedly, and Chandler wiped sweat from his brow, exchanging a knowing looking with Joey as Rachel fawned over her pin.

 

* * *

 

Ross came back from his trip to China with Julie and they seemed really happy with each other. _So_ happy, that they got married after a couple of months, even though Ross admitted to Joey that he wasn’t too fond of her cat.

 

They got divorced after six months, and Joey secretly thought it was all because of that cat.

 

Meanwhile, Rachel started dating a guy she met at the restaurant Monica worked at. His name was Mark, he was tall, friendly, and good-looking, and Joey noticed that while Ross made snide remarks about Rachel’s new boyfriend, Ross’s insults weren’t as mean as his insults about Paolo. Joey wasn’t sure if that was because Ross had finally seemed to get over Rachel, or if it was because Mark was so nice that no one could really hate him. Maybe it was because Ross could actually understand what he was saying, or because Mark never asked Phoebe for a massage. 

 

After Joey read that horrible review of his play, he spent days wallowing in pity. Acting had been his life, his dream! But if he wasn’t doing a good job at it, what was the point?

 

He ran through a list of all the other things he could do instead of acting. He could be a vet, but he’d have to go to a lot of classes and stick his hands into cows. Pass. He could be a firefighter – chicks liked firefighters – but he’d have to work all day, and fire was scary!

 

Monica and Phoebe made up a list for him to go through and see which ones looked the most interesting to him.

 

“Accountant?” Monica asked.

 

“What the hell do they do?” Joey said, and Chandler sighed from his spot on the couch.

 

“Ooh, how about an astronaut?” Phoebe said, after closing her eyes and picking a job from the list at random.

 

“Hey, that might be kinda cool!” Joey said with a grin, and Phoebe circled the job on the list.

 

“Joey, that’s a very physically and mentally intensive job,” Ross said as he sat down next to Chandler. “You’d have to undergo a lot of rigorous training in order to even get a seat in a rocket.”

 

“Done,” Joey said.

 

“You’ll have to go to the bathroom in your space suit all the time,” Chandler called over from the couch.

 

“Aw, man,” Joey said, “I don’t want to do that!” Phoebe scratched a line through ‘astronaut.’

 

The door opened just then, and Rachel came inside. Joey forgot about his career troubles as soon as he saw her face, because she looked like something was bothering her.

 

“Rachel? Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Monica asked as she got up from the table.

 

“Huh? Oh, y’know, it’s nothing. Just...” Rachel started rubbing the back of her neck, something Joey noticed she would do when she was deep in thought. “Not important.”

 

“Is it Mark?” Ross asked, sound a bit too eager. “Trouble in paradise?”

 

Rachel shook her head very quickly. “No! Not at all. It’s...” she cleared her throat as she approached the table, looking at the job list. “What’s this? Gardener, astronaut, car salesman... What the hell’s a ‘statistical analyst?’”

 

“You guys are _killin’_ me!” Chandler said, burying his head in his hands.

 

“Joey wants to get a new job,” Phoebe explained to Rachel.

 

“Yeah,” he said, “turns out I stink at acting, so I guess I should find something I can be good at.”

 

“What?” she went over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “But honey, you _love_ acting! You shouldn’t give up on your dreams. Look at me, I didn’t!” She paused for a moment and took her hand off his shoulder, placing it on her hip. “I mean seriously, look at this dress – still can’t believe I have a 20% discount!”

 

Joey admired it, but wasn’t really in the mood to follow it up by hitting on her. “Yeah, but you’re good at what you do. There’s gotta be _something_ I can enjoy and be good at.”

 

“Aw, thank you Joe.”

 

“Okay, you know what?” Monica said, sliding the list away from Joey, “if you _really_ want to pursue something else you like, you could try being a freelance artist. You enjoy expressing yourself, you’re creative, and you get to play around with clay and paint and stuff.”

 

“Ooh, that’s a great idea!” Phoebe said, her eyes lighting up. “Joey, you should definitely try it out. But rule number one: don’t _ever_ eat your supplies.” She shook her head and shuddered, as if reliving a bad memory.

 

“Uh, okay. Yeah...” Joey said slowly, actually thinking about the idea. “Hey, that doesn’t sound too bad!”

 

“And if that doesn’t work out, you can always go back to acting,” Rachel offered. Joey thought he saw Ross and Chandler make wild gestures out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked at them, they were giving him the thumbs up.

 

“All right, I’ll do it,” Joey said, standing and grinning at all his friends. “I’ll be an artist!”

 

“Yeah, you could be the next Picasso!” Phoebe said, standing up and giving him a high five.

 

He returned it, still grinning, and said, “Who’s that?”

 

The others looked at each other.

 

“Okay, I’ll pay for _one_ class,” Chandler said, “but that’s it!”

 

* * *

 

He ended up paying for several... dozen classes, actually, but none of them seemed to work for Joey. His sketches never got better than stick figures. His photos were all blurry, out-of-focus shots of hot women he met in the park. He got so frustrated during calligraphy class that he only got as far as writing his name, and a couple of choice words that caused his teacher to kick him out. His paintings all turned out to be goopy messes of sickening colors that gave him a bunch of headaches. The one time Joey got _really_ excited about an art class, Chandler wouldn’t pay for it, and Joey suspected it was because Chandler wanted to draw a naked lady himself.

 

“That still hurts, man,” he complained to Chandler a few weeks later.

 

“For the last time, I did _not_  take that nude art class instead!”

 

“Sure, you didn’t.”

 

Phoebe even tried teaching him how to knit so he could sell hats, but his were all too small for even Ben to wear.

 

“This sucks!” Joey said, tearing down his smiley and angry face drawings from his fridge and stuffing the papers into the trash can. “ _I_ suck. I think I’m gonna need to find another career, you guys.”

 

“Oh, honey,” Rachel said, rubbing his back and hugging him a little from behind. For a moment, he forgot why he was so upset.

 

“Does this mean you won’t need any more classes?” Chandler asked, sitting at one of the bar stools with a hopeful expression.

 

“Yeah,” Joey said, sighing loudly. “I guess I’ll just —”

 

“— Oh, look!” Phoebe exclaimed, jumping out of Chandler's Barcalounger and holding out the newspaper she’d been reading toward Joey. “There’s an Intro to Pottery class next Friday night! You haven’t tried that yet, have you?”

 

“No,” Joey said warily. “I dunno, Pheebs, I don’t think I’m really cut out for this whole art thing. I guess it’s time for me to go back to off-off Broadway.”

 

“Well, maybe you haven’t found the right medium,” she said, closing the newspaper. “Look, I’ll take the class with you. If two people go, the second person’s class is free. I’ll pay for yours,” - “Halellujah!” Chandler nearly shouted – “and I’ll get to make myself another mug! It’ll be fun.”

 

“Okay,” Joey said, still not fully convinced, but willing to give it a try.

 

“I’ll come too!” Rachel said. “Don’t have any plans that day, anyway, so I might as well.”

 

“What, seriously?” Chandler asked. “Aren’t you dating that Mark person?”

 

“Nope,” Rachel said, “Funny story, really. He wants to get married and have kids right away, and I, uh, y’know… kinda don’t!” She wiped a tear away.

 

“Rachel,” Phoebe asked, putting a hand on Rachel’s shoulder, “that doesn’t sound so funny.”

 

“No, it doesn’t!” Rachel cried, sniffling and sobbing on Phoebe’s shoulder. Chandler got up off his stool with a look of fear in his eyes, something Joey always noticed whenever Chandler saw an upset woman.

 

“Oh, thanks, you guys!” Rachel said through her tears. “I’ll be fine, really! It’s just not the right time for me... But he was so _cute_.” She cried some more into Phoebe’s shoulder and Phoebe muttered over Rachel’s head, “For crying out loud you two, get in here!” And both Joey and Chandler rushed to hug her from the other side.

 

“Does this mean I have to come too?” Chandler whispered to Phoebe.

 

“It’ll make Rachel’s class free...” She whispered back through gritted teeth.

 

Chandler groaned.

 

Joey just hugged Rachel, hoping the class would help her feel better.

 

* * *

 

The pottery class ended up being the most fun Joey ever had while making art – he got to be messy, his head didn’t hurt too much, it was fun working with clay and making things he could use in his daily life, and he kinda remembered some stuff from making bowls in high school. Rachel sat next to him, laughing at his jokes and looking like she already forgot about her break-up with Mark. Phoebe helped the teacher out by giving everyone in the class advice – for some reason, the teacher didn’t look too happy about that – and Chandler napped.  Everyone admired Joey’s bowl and cup when they were finished, and he went home feeling like he did something right, for once. He actually forgot about the play review that got him started down this path.

 

He decided he was going to stick with pottery, but Chandler put his foot down when Joey wanted to buy a bunch of supplies and a video lesson. So, Joey got a part-time job as a waiter at a restaurant Monica referred him to, and bought big blocks of clay to shape into whatever he wanted. With the tips he got, he even managed to split the price of a kiln – he knew what a kiln was! – with Phoebe, who came over to his place to share it sometimes. She brought her friend Bonnie over once, and Joey was just about to start flirting with her when Rachel came in, asking to borrow some of Chandler’s moisturizer. Joey got distracted from Bonnie, showing Rachel his new vase, and she admired it as Ross came in.

 

“Woah, what is this place, a museum?” Ross asked, looking around at Joey’s collection of lumpy clay. “Hey, Joe, great, uh...”

 

“Vase!” Rachel said, waving her arms around it like she was showing it off in an infomercial. Joey beamed while watching her, not even missing the days when he used to be on infomercials. “See? You can put flowers in it, or put it next to your bone collection.”

 

“Bone collection? Oh, that is _cool_ ,” Bonnie said.

 

“Actually, they’re fos—” Ross started to say, then turned to look at who had spoken. He smiled at Bonnie, and Phoebe quickly introduced them as Joey and Rachel tried not to laugh. The other three went over to Monica and Rachel’s apartment, and Rachel bent down a bit, turning her attention back to looking at the vase.

 

“You think they’re gonna get married?” Joey asked, and she swatted his chest playfully. “Guess it’d be kinda cool if they started dating. I don’t think Ross has been with anyone since, y’know...”

 

“Yeah,” Rachel said, avoiding Julie’s name, which none of them had spoken since they last saw her, with that Russ dude.

 

“So, have you been, uh, seeing anyone?” Joey asked Rachel, suddenly feeling a bit hot, standing in his apartment alone with her. They’d hung out a few times in the past, like when they read each other’s books and when Rachel would come over to watch movies at night while Monica and Richard were dating. But usually, there’d be someone else there with them, and Joey wouldn’t feel like his mouth had gone completely dry.

 

Like it was feeling right at that second.

 

“Nah,” Rachel said, standing up and heading over to the fridge, her voice higher than usual. “I’m not really into the whole dating scene right now, y’know? Actually, your career change kind of inspired me to think about myself first, what I want out of life, that kind of thing.” She opened the fridge, and pulled out a carton of orange juice. “I mean, maybe one day I’ll be with someone who’s on the same page as me, someone who really _understands_ me and what I want, but until then, I guess I’ll just —”

 

“— Wait!” Joey cried, widening his eyes as he looked at the carton and lunging forward to grab it out of her hands. “Don’t drink that.”

 

“What?” Rachel asked, alarmed.

 

“Uh,” Joey said, showing her the expiration date, “maybe we should head down to Central Perk. I’ll get you a coffee – _not_ as a date, or anything.”

 

“Oh,” Rachel said, and Joey wondered why she looked kind of let down. “Yeah, not as a date. Like I wanted. Okay, sure.”

 

As they headed downstairs, Joey still couldn’t quite figure out why Rachel was looking a little down, or why he was feeling so nervous around her. Maybe she really wanted juice? He knew that on his part, it was just being around a hot woman and _not_ jumping into bed with her.

 

But Joey didn’t get that way around Monica and Phoebe when he was alone with them, and he’d sometimes spend hours taste testing Monica’s food, or listening to Phoebe write new songs.

 

It was probably the clay fumes, he thought. They must’ve started getting to him.

 

* * *

 

One day, Chandler walked by Joey as he slowly scratched the image of a woman onto an underglazed plate. He’d been able to sell a lot of his bowls and vases through Phoebe, so he wanted to take some downtime and work on a side project. He knew he was never going to sell this one, but he wasn’t planning on it. Something about the side portrait of the woman he was slowly carving out just... soothed him. It had become a lot easier to make a recognizable images on his pottery, but maybe that was because he was scratching away one layer to reveal another.

 

Or maybe it was because he was drawing a beautiful woman, instead of a bowl of fruit.

 

Chandler stopped behind Joey, watching him for a while, and said, “Huh.”

 

Joey put down his mini ribbon tool, wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow. “What?”

 

“Well, either you got _really_ good, or I’m so used to looking at your stuff that I’ve built up some sort of immunity to it.”

 

Joey beamed at that. “You really like it?”

 

“Yeah, but..." Chandler furrowed his brow as he stepped closer to it. “From this angle, she kinda looks like Rachel.”

 

“What? Where you getting that from?” Joey stepped back to look at the plate from Chandler’s point-of-view, but he couldn't see the resemblance. He'd carved out the image of a woman, all right – it made up for missing the nude class – but that woman wasn't Rachel.

 

She was hot, of course, but she _definitely_ wasn't Rachel.

 

Okay, so maybe Joey and Rachel had gotten a lot closer, spending Saturdays just shopping together – or, in Joey’s case, roaming around the stores in a daze as Rachel flitted from rack to rack. On Sundays, they usually went to the park. They dated other people, and Joey had finally relaxed around Rachel when they were alone, but he still had moments of looking at her a little too long, feeling warm whenever she touched his arm.

 

But that didn’t mean he was putting her in his  _artwork_.

 

So, to prove a point, Joey kept scratching images of women in his pieces. He sold his regular ones off, but over the next few months, he slowly created a small series of works that had the outline of a woman’s face on them, always smiling and happy. It was much easier putting patterns on his pieces, instead of a person, but Joey kept up his little side collection.

 

Chandler continued to see bits of Rachel in Joey's carvings, and continued to point them out, but Joey didn’t see her at all in them. He was beginning to think Chandler was screwing with him on purpose until, one day, Phoebe walked in, looking at an unglazed clay tile wall hanging Joey was messing around with.

 

After looking at the woman etched on the surface for a moment, Phoebe stood up and said, “Oh, by the way, I asked Rachel if she wanted to come to the movies with us later.”

 

Before he could stop himself, Joey snapped, “What is the _matte_ r with all of you? Rachel’s not there!” and stomped off to his room.

 

Between the thin walls, as he sat on his bed and sulked, he heard Phoebe say, “Then where did she go?”

 

Later, while Joey was working on a small ceramic bust of a woman, he was so focused on his work that he didn’t even hear the sound of his apartment door opening and closing. He didn’t hear the sound of footsteps coming toward him.

 

It even took him a moment to feel the weight of someone resting their chin on his shoulder. He smelled a light, flowery scent, and he suddenly shrieked and jumped up off his stool.

 

“Oh, my God! Joey, honey, I’m so sorry,” Rachel babbled.

 

He got his bearings and sat back on the stool. “Hey, no, it's okay. I didn’t hear you, is all.”

 

“Wow,” Rachel said, “You must’ve been concentrating really hard not to hear me. Or I’m sneakier than I thought!” She stepped closer toward him when she must have thought he was calming down.

 

He hoped she wouldn’t notice that his heart was going a mile a minute.

 

He picked up the bust’s lower lip and gently placed it onto the main form, smoothing out the edges as Rachel watched. After a minute or two of him quietly working, and her quietly watching, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Joey took a deep breath and asked, “Do you see anyone familiar?” He gestured at the bust, which now had all of its facial features. “Anyone you know?”

 

He couldn’t look at her as she studied the bust. He was just glad she couldn’t tell how hard his heart was thudding away in his chest. “No. Well, unless...”

 

“Yeah?” He finally glanced over to her, and watched her fold her arms across her chest, squinting as she peered at the bust.

 

Finally, she said, “It kinda looks like Mrs. Potato Head.”

 

“Oh.” Joey didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know how to _feel_ about that. He couldn’t tell whether he was relieved or disappointed at hearing her answer.

 

“I mean, what do I know?” Rachel said quickly, rubbing Joey’s shoulder lightly to reassure him. “I’m not really good at this whole art thing.”

 

“It’s okay,” Joey said, shrugging a bit. “That means I got a lot more work ahead of me.” He picked up one of his modeling tools and started shaping the cheekbones.

 

“Mind if I stay and watch?”

 

Joey turned around to look at Rachel, and, a little too quickly, his eyes darted back toward the bust.

 

Nah. She was right: it _did_ look like Mr. Potato Head. Not like Rachel.

 

“Sure,” he said, “maybe you can give me some pointers.”

 

“Well, I can at least pretend to,” Rachel said, getting one of the stools to set it down next to Joey.

 

His heartbeat had started to slow down, but his chest still felt very warm, for some reason.

 

* * *

 

Outside of his ‘studio,’ life for the others passed by Joey in a blur. Rachel got a new job, which she was very happy about because she wanted to take a step up in her career; plus, things had gotten weird at her old place, what with her break-up with Mark, drama with her boss Joanne, and Phoebe kissing Ralph Lauren. Ross and Bonnie had dated briefly, then broke up. Monica and Phoebe started a catering service, but that fell through after a while. Phoebe got pregnant for her brother and his wife – which was, okay, a little weird, but Joey wanted to be supportive, so he swore off meat as long as she craved it while pregnant. Ross met this British chick through Rachel’s job, and Joey was happy for them, _especially_ because that meant Joey was swimming in giant Toblerone bars.

 

“The chocolatey aroma _does_ balance out the migraine-inducing clay stench,” Chandler pointed out while rubbing his forehead, and Joey opened all the windows and tabled his projects for a few days.

 

Joey and Chandler switched apartments with Rachel and Monica a couple times, and then, before Joey knew it, Ross was announcing his engagement to Emily. Everyone except Phoebe flew to London. The ceremony was beautiful, much better than the Bachelor party that Joey cut off short because one of Ross’s museum friends knocked over Joey’s favorite ‘Not Rachel’ wall hanging.

 

At the reception, Rachel got pretty hammered at the main group’s table, and she sighed wistfully as she watched Ross and Emily dancing. “I wonder if I’ll ever have what they have,” she said, and Joey didn’t quite know what to say to that. He was starting to feel kind of homesick, but Rachel looked much sadder than he felt. _So_ much sadder, that Joey spent the whole night by her side, listening as she vented about her recent break-up with _Joshua_ , and noticing as she snuck glances at Monica and Chandler, who seemed to spend the whole night together too.

 

“You think they’re gonna hook up?” Rachel mumbled while she rested her head on Joey’s shoulder.

 

“Chandler and Monica? Nah, no way,” Joey said, but then he felt a tap on his shoulder.

 

“Excuse me,” one of the hot bridesmaids said to him sweetly, “I couldn’t help but notice how lovely your speech was.”

 

“Oh?” Joey asked, raising an eyebrow. He was just about to deliver his patented pick-up line, when —

 

“— Oh, God!” Rachel cried, slapping a hand over her mouth as she jumped up and raced to the nearest bathroom.

 

“Hold that thought,” Joey told the bridesmaid, and ran off after Rachel.

 

She made it to the bathroom in time, but was too embarrassed to leave. Joey ended up talking to her through the door for half an hour before she finally came outside, holding her high heels in one hand and still covering her mouth with the other.

 

“Boy, they sure don’t joke around with the wine over here!” Rachel said, laughing weakly.

 

“You okay?” Joey asked, relieved that she was standing, but worried that she wouldn’t be for long.

 

“Yeah!” she said, wobbling and leaning against the wall. “Totally. I’ll just head up to my room and, y’know, die. It’ll be fun!”

 

Joey glanced back at the table the bridesmaid was sitting at. She met his eyes, and made a gesture like she was asking him to come back to the table.

 

Joey looked back over at Rachel, who was slowly and unsteadily using the wall to lead her in the opposite direction of where all the rooms were.

 

He looked back at the bridesmaid, mouthed, “Sorry,” and headed over to help Rachel to her room.

 

He spent the whole night sitting in a not-so-comfortable chair next to her as she tossed and turned in her bed, mumbling drunkenly. He kept having to pause etching out plans for his next Not Rachel wall hanging to move the trashcan closer to her every time he thought she was going to hurl again.

 

“Thank you, Joe,” she slurred sleepily for the twentieth time, burying her face deeper into her pillow.

 

“No sweat,” Joey said for the twentieth time, and when Rachel finally passed out, he put the memo pad full of sketches down on her nightstand, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes too.

 

 _Well_ , he thought a bit smugly before he drifted off to sleep, _at least Chandler didn't get any action tonight, either._

 

* * *

 

Back in the West Village, two months after the London trip and Phoebe gave birth to the triplets, Joey finished the final touches of his new wall hanging: a woman, with long hair tossed back, caught in the middle of laughing over one shoulder.

 

And then, when he stood in front of it, looking at it head on, he saw it.

 

He saw  _her_.

 

“Joey?”

 

He turned, looking over at the door as Rachel poked her head inside. “Where’s Chandler?” she asked.

 

“Oh, he’s off doing laundry,” Joey said, his hands suddenly sweaty as he found himself unable to look at Rachel. He focused his attention on the wall hanging instead.

 

“Ooh, finished another piece? Let me see!” Rachel said, practically bouncing over to him.

 

“Oh, wait, it’s not done yet,” Joey said, suddenly nervous, picking up his latest piece and holding it away from her.

 

She laughed, “Don’t be so shy, Joe. I’ve seen all your other stuff before, so unless this is anything like Phoebe’s, uh, paintings, it’s probably not too bad.”

 

Joey swung it away from her, holding it at his arm’s length and stepping backward so she wouldn’t see it. “Nah, it’s okay. I just need to wait it to dry.”

 

Then, before he could even think about stopping her, she grabbed onto the edges of it and yanked it out of his hands. He didn’t know why he let go of it. Maybe, somewhere in the back of his mind, in the place he had been covering up and hiding away from for so long, he _wanted_ to let go.

 

Rachel held it up and stared at it, and Joey heard her gasp.

 

“Wow,” she said, after a long moment of silence – or, it would’ve been silence, if Joey’s heart wasn’t thundering in his ears. “Okay, this  _definitely_ isn’t Mrs. Potato Head.”

 

“It’s you,” he said, and Rachel looked up at him.

 

“Oh.” She stared down at it some more, and Joey did not know what to say. He’d never been in this situation before. But, in the span of time it took for her to look at the best image of her he had managed to put into his work, he realized she’d been there all along – in all of his art.

 

“This is really beautiful, Joey.”

 

“You’re not mad?” he asked, and she looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

 

“Mad? What – why would I be mad? This is...” She struggled to speak, but after another moment of stillness, she walked over to Joey, and held his piece out for him to take.

 

When he did, taking the edges of it, she didn’t let go.

 

And, keeping enough distance between them so she wouldn’t touch the artwork, but drawing closer to Joey, she slowly, softly, kissed his lips.

 

He savored it, holding onto the wall hanging too, not even caring anymore about what happened to it. He just kissed Rachel back and took in her everything: her flowery scent, the warmth of her lips, and her quiet hum of pleasure.

 

When they parted, their hands still holding up the piece, Joey leaned forward, resting his forehead against Rachel’s.

 

“I didn’t think it was you, Rach, but it was. In everything I made, all these years.”

 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” she said quietly, her breath light on his cheek, “a part of me kinda hoped that was true.”

 

“It is, but...” Joey rocked back on his heels, pulling away from Rachel as they continued holding up the wall hanging between each other. “I’ve never done this before, long term, with someone I really care about. You know? I mean, I want to – God, I want to – but I'm scared.”

 

“So am I,” Rachel said. “But you were the one who told me a long time ago to face your fear. And, well, this is me. Facing it.” She leaned forward to kiss him again, slow and sweet, and he murmured, “Good thing you’re braver than me,” causing her to let out a soft giggle.

 

When they separated again, she lifted the wall hanging as he let go of it again. “Seriously, Joe, this is amazing. I mean, I always thought you’d be great at this if you practiced a lot, but I mean, wow!” She put her free hand over her chest.

 

“Thanks,” Joey said, beaming, “But I had the perfect muse. Hey, I used that word right for the first time!”

 

She grinned, shaking her head. “Can I keep this? Please?”

 

“Sure,” he said, not feeling so nervous anymore about sharing a future with her. “But that means you’ll have to make one of me in return.”

 

“Oh, Joey, I can’t make anything like this!” Rachel gestured at the image of her laughing face.

 

"Sure, you can. You just gotta have the right kind of inspiration, like I did.”

 

Rachel bit her lip, looking at the wall hanging, then lowered it as she gave Joey a mischievous look, one he immediately wanted to recreate in another piece. “Inspiration, huh? Would that include, uh... nudity, by any chance?”

 

“Rach,” he said, very seriously, “You are gonna be a pro at this.”

 

She let out a laugh, a loud and long one, her face matching the image of her etched on the wall hanging, and she put it down to wrap her arms around Joey as she kissed him again.


End file.
